Green Eyed Monster
by Delu
Summary: How dare she? Touching what was his, holding what was his. His emerald eyes narrowed. He just barely held back an infuriated snarl. Oh she would pay. Slash, HD. Possessive!Harry, Dominated!Draco. Oneshot


**Word Count:** 1158

_Revised: July 29, 2009_

_ -- Edit Made: _Grammar.

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**Green Eyed Monster**

She had her hands all over him.

Harry couldn't help but growl. How dare she? _How dare she?_ Touching what was his, holding what was his. His emerald eyes narrowed at the Pug.

Two tables away from him were two people; but not just any two people. No. Draco Malfoy and Pug-nosed Pansy Parkinson were seated at the Slytherin table, and that little wench had her hands all over _his _Draco_._ She had an arm flung about his waist, the other wrapped tightly around his elbow, trapping the silver haired Adonis in place. And Harry knew that Draco didn't want to be there.

After all, didn't he tell Harry _just last night _that he was his? Only his. Yes. And now that little - _thing_ had her hands all over his Draco.

He just barely held back an infuriated snarl.

He knew that he was over-reacting, that this jealousy was misplaced. That Draco was his, just as the blond had said. But he couldn't help it. Harry didn't have many possessions in the world that he cherished, but the few he did he took care of. And what kind of care was he showing when he let that bint have her hands all over what was his? None, that was what.

He couldn't wait to get out of the Great Hall. He needed to show that Draco was his -- even if the only people who knew it were the blond and himself. He would show him that he cared, that he _wanted_ to drag that girl (if she could really be called that) off of him. But he couldn't. Not now, but eventually.

Dinner could not have gone slower if time had stopped. Harry continued to stare at the two from across the Hall. There wasn't much else he could do, no matter how much he wanted to. He could just picture it now, what he would do. He would drag the girl off of what was his, to start. And then she would pay, _oh would she pay._

Shaking his head slightly, he put his Gryffindor mask back on, trying to ignore the pleading look Draco was sending his way. Draco knew he wanted to help, but he couldn't. Merlin knew he wanted to do _something._ He could barely retain the guttural growl at the back of his throat when he heard the pug's shrill voice, even from across the Hall.

"But, _Draco_," she whined. She expressed what she believed to be the perfect pout for her boyfriend. Two things were wrong with that assumption:

One: a face like that could _never _pull of any sort of pout without looking like death warmed over.

Two: he was _not _her boyfriend. The blond only wished that she would realize that before Harry literally dragged her off of him. Well, part of him wished she would realize that soon. The other, more sadistic part, said to let her claw at him -- it would be all the funnier when she writhed in agony at the Gryffindor's hands.

Draco shot a discreet look over to the Gryffindor table; Harry's knuckles were white. Oh, Merlin. If this girl knew what she was doing . . . she probably wouldn't have stopped anyway. He sneered at the thought. She was disgusting, throwing herself at him like this. The girl just didn't know how to take 'no' for an answer!

If only she knew.

Draco had learned earlier that year that Harry was an insanely possessive person, when it came to lovers. The young man didn't seem like he would be, but he was one of the most possessive and insanely jealous people Draco had ever come in contact with. He remembered when had found out the tid bit of information.

---

_It was the beginning of the year; only two weeks after school had started. Only a few days ago had he and Harry . . . proclaimed certain . . . feelings for one another. After the first few awkward moments of them just staring at each other, Harry had, simply put, attacked him. Looking back on it, Draco smiled faintly. It was nice to be dominated sometimes._

_The blond had been coming back from one of his first snog sessions with the raven haired teen when he had been spotted by his long time friend -- Blaise Zabini. The Italian saw him and gave the slightest of smiles. The dark haired Slytherin walked up to his friend and gave him a look over._

_"Draco, are you feeling all right? You look a bit flushed, mate," he said, and Draco could tell that there was well hidden concern in his voice. The blond just nodded; he was still trying to calm his complexion from the event that had happened only a few minutes before. The Italian Slytherin clapped his friend on the back. "Well, if you're sure, I'll be in the common room." He cringed slightly as he remembered something. "Pansy's looking for you, by the way. I'd suggest you stay away from the Library." With a nod, the other Slytherin left._

_Draco had only walked a few feet before he was grabbed by the shoulder and hoisted into an unused classroom by familiar calloused hands. Lips attacked his and he heard faint mumbling against his lips._

_He knew it was Harry, just by the way the taller boy smelt. Butterscotch and something that was purely male. He breathed in the scent as much as he could before his thoughts were drained by the Gryffindor's talented mouth._

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He was pretty sure that he would have difficulty breathing later, if his memory was any indication. Until then, he had to put up with the _thing _hanging off of his arm and try not to spill what little he had gotten to his stomach right back up again. Dinner was taking far too long, in his opinion.

He glanced up and met Harry's heated, verdant eyes. They gave a brief glare at the girl next to him, reminding him faintly of something completely animalistic, then went back to his. Oh, Merlin. Dinner was taking far, _far _too long. He gave Harry his most pleading look to be rescued. He didn't think that he could stand much more of the girl babbling in his ear.

Harry's eye twitched slightly, he noted, at the girl's every breath. Draco smirked. He was sure the sable haired teen at the other side of the Hall was pained that the girl was still breathing. He sighed in relief as the table was finally cleared of all food. The blond stood, shaking off Pansy, and headed for the door. Down the hall, into the dungeons . . . and to the same room that Harry had cornered him in before. It only took a few mooments for the Gryffindor to get there.

The blond was roughly pushed against a desk.

"Mine."

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